


Kiss

by stateofintegrity



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24736465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stateofintegrity/pseuds/stateofintegrity
Summary: Klinger’s work for charity earns him unwanted attention from Major Winchester.
Relationships: Maxwell Klinger/Charles Emerson Winchester III
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	Kiss

He laid the money down in that high-handed way that the truly wealthy had; that gesture said that wealth was a passkey for any door they wished to open. Unfortunately for Charles Emerson Winchester III, Klinger wasn’t buying. 

“The fundraiser’s over, Major.”

“You’d deny me the chance to contribute to a good cause because I was on duty? Think of the orphans, Klinger.”

Removing his earrings and dropping them in a wooden tray that served as part jewelry box, part junk drawer, Klinger tried to keep a grip on his emotions. They’d been at this for a while. The passes didn’t bother him half as much as the Major’s deep and unshakable certainty. He seemed to think the outcome inevitable just because he was the one doing the asking! “You can’t buy me, you know.”

He had intended the words as a reprimand, but Charles certainly didn’t look shot down. “Correct. Even if I could, this would be far too paltry a sum. What I can do is purchase the right to make use of that beguiling mouth of yours at 10 cents a minute.” His slow smile was almost smug. “For the orphans, of course.“

Klinger sighed. He could see no way out of this when he’d just spent the afternoon, as Charles was sure to soon point out, letting the members of the 4077th kiss him for money. The Major wouldn’t acknowledge the distinction between those mouths and his, of course; no one else who’d paid him for a peck on the cheeks or on the lips - and that included Hawkeye! - had ulterior motives. 

Worse still, Klinger had learned that Winchester possessed nearly infinite reserves of patience. So, he could try to stand here, refuse his money, and wait for rejection to sink in and for him to go, but the Corporal knew that he would crack first. Winchester would wait. And Klinger would feel sorry for just leaving him there, all hopeful eyes and perfect manners, and then he’d have to offer him a drink or a seat or something. Giving in now just hastened the inevitable. 

“Fine. But (a) I want your hands where I can see them, sir, and (b) this isn’t going to work.”

Charles ignored this. “With your permission, then?” 

When Klinger lifted his face to be kissed, his lips wore a scowl. Even this did nothing to demoralize Winchester or knock him off course. He merely claimed his prize. 

“You’re going to get bored,” Klinger warned him when Charles permitted him to come up for air.

The physician just laughed. He showed every sign of enjoying himself, despite Klinger’s stubborn refusal to respond. His eyes twinkled with a new-minted brightness and his cheeks glowed with the softest rose blush Klinger had ever seen. “Oh, Klinger. I’m easily entertained. I must be in order to survive this place. Besides, that was just a warm up.”

So saying, he then lifted the Corporal into his lap and kissed him again, more insistently this time. 

Klinger sputtered indignantly when he drew back. “You kinda forgot to ask my permission for  _ that part _ , sir.” He reached down to smooth his skirt, using the fabric as a barrier. 

“Klinger, Klinger. You give every sign of not wanting to drag this out. If I have to continually stop and ask you things, why, we’ll be here all night. I certainly don’t want to make you a topic for the camp rumor mill by overstaying my welcome so late in the evening.” 

“Your consideration is touching, sir,” Klinger replied acidly. 

“Good, that’s settled. Unless you want to withhold permission for me to put my tongue in your mouth?”

Klinger’s eyes went as wide as the moon looking down on the camp.  _ You wouldn’t _ ... He readied himself to say, “I don’t think the kissing booth is ready for that level of innovation, Major,” but Charles was quick. 

And damn it if the feel of so deep a kiss didn’t cause Klinger to moan. 

It was a toss up who was more surprised by that hungry sound, but no contest at all when it came to who was the happiest about it. 

Charles couldn’t seem to decide what to do with his hands. “You!” One hand gestured at Klinger frantically. “You’ve always been so insistent that you felt nothing for me! What, pray tell, then, was that?” 

He was practically crowing, but Klinger had been in tough spots before; he wasn’t going to just knuckle under. Summoning up as much dignity as he could muster given his position, he said, “Your knee got tangled in my hem, sir. I was trying to warn you so it wouldn’t tear.” 

Charles’s eyes flashed. Klinger could say what he wanted about how strange a pair they made, the surgeon knew that he and the man he was pursuing were well-matched in this; he wasn’t going to back down easily either. “Oh? My apologies.” He smoothed the cloth draped over his legs, hand lingering on Klinger’s hip. “Then you surely won’t object if I continue what I was doing?”

_ Damn. Damn. Damn _ . Winchester had volleyed that back quicker than he’d expected. And if he did object, the surgeon had a built in counter. He would say he did feel something and insist on being given the chance he’d been working so hard to obtain. If he didn’t object, he was going to have to learn not to feel something real quick. What a stupid trap! Who knew Charles could kiss like that? 

“Fine.”

Winchester drew close to his face again, but stopped short to ask, again, “You’re quite sure? I wouldn’t want to damage the results of your sewing.”

Klinger wanted to scream. “Get on with it, sir.” 

The dry tone wasn’t exactly what he’d dreamed, but the sentiment was right. And now that he knew what worked... well, wouldn’t he be remiss if he failed to press those buttons again? Besides, he was paying for the privilege... and a Winchester always got his money’s worth. 

He had to give Klinger credit, though. He could feel the heat rising off of the man’s skin and knew that the nape of the Corporal’s neck had to be beaded with sweat, but he was fighting to keep quiet for all he was worth... and mostly succeeding. 

Another tactic then. After mapping every part of Klinger’s mouth and daring his tongue to come out and dance, Charles abruptly left off. With what seemed like studied indifference, he glanced at his watch and said, “I do believe I’ve exhausted the duration of my donation, Corporal. If you would?” He gestured for Klinger to stand. 

Klinger’s eyes were only half open; he looked drugged or drowsy or drunk, perhaps all three at once. One look at that gaze as it struggled to focus told Charles just how much of an effect he’d had. Then his words registered and Klinger looked stunned. The Corporal searched for his voice and found it somewhere in the bottom of his throat where he’d locked it away to prevent it from betraying him. “Major?” What he wanted to say was, “You know there’s no way I can stand up after that!” What he settled on was, “You’re sure, sir?” This wasn’t like Winchester and he felt wary. 

“Quite.” He placed the Corporal on his feet as if this was an act he undertook daily. “You know Mulcahy will fleece me again after services, and I fear I’ve left my wallet in the Swamp.”

Klinger knew this was a lie; Winchester would as soon leave his wallet with Hawkeye and BJ as he would sign reenlistment papers. 

“Oh,” he said, moving unexpectedly from wary to hurt. “It’s just that it’s such a good cause, sir.” 

Winchester reached out and lifted his chin, thumb grazing his cheek. “Yes. There’s just one problem, Maxwell.”

He stayed still under that audacious touch. “What’s that?” 

“I’ve no earthly desire to kiss you in the name of any cause but my own.” Then he bent, kissed him once more, softly, and turned away. 

***

It was full dark when Klinger entered the Swamp and knelt beside the cot where his longtime pursuer now slept. 

“Max! What are you doing!?”

“Shhh. You’ll wake up Hawkeye and BJ!”

“Pierce and Hunnicutt aren’t here,” Charles told his nocturnal visitor. “Now, am I yet dreaming or did you come here in the middle of the night to kiss me awake?” 

“The second one. Do you mind?”

“Mind!? I’m delighted!” He moved over on the cot and urged Klinger to join him with his eyes. Kicking out of a sensible pair of heels (for once), the Corporal climbed in and kissed him again. When he drew back, he seemed as surprised with himself as Charles was. It was as though in kissing him, Charles had administered some addictive chemical; he couldn’t get enough. He rubbed his hand over his mouth as if to prove it was really his lips that had gotten him into this fix.

Charles didn’t make a move of his own. Up to this point, he’d been the one chasing. If Klinger wished to take over the role, he was happy to relinquish it and allow the Corporal to do whatever he wanted. Still more than a little stunned at his own behavior, Klinger watched him. “I kind of thought you’d be all over me at this point, Major, given how things have been going between us.” 

“You awakened me,” Charles reminded him. “You lead.”

But Klinger didn’t seem to know how. Charles grasped his hands. “You’re trembling,” the surgeon said, awed. 

Klinger nodded. Charles took his shaking hands, held them warm in his own. “Not that I’m complaining, Max, but may I ask what brought about this change of heart?”

“You have to ask? You got to me, Major, kissing me like that. I think you would have gotten to anyone. I haven’t been able to think about anything else!” 

“But?”

His voice got small. Even his body seemed to fold in, trying to protect itself. “You’re not going to want me, after.”

“Oh?” He thought to tease but then thought better of it, seeing something in that compressed form. “Klinger, is it at all possible that you are laboring under the illusion that I am pursuing you as something to do?”

“Everybody knows you like a good chase, sir. I’ve been hunting with you, remember? Or what passes for it over here.” 

Charles looked at his dark eyes and thought of a tapestry he’d seen once - a deer driven by beaters, its back to a clearing that opened on a cliff. The artist had sewn surprisingly shiny tears into its eyes. “Pretty as you are in feathers, I see no similarity between you and game birds, darling, I assure you.” He situated himself so that he sat facing him, hands on Klinger’s thighs as if to anchor him. “Max, I never intended to scare you.”

“You do, though!”

“I see that. And I apologize. I will stop if you wish it.”

“I’ve been telling you to stop since you started,” Klinger reminded him. 

“Why don’t you tell me why you think I won’t want you if we move past kissing.”

“You can’t figure it out on your own, Major? You went to Harvard.”

_ Ah. _ “The differences in our backgrounds alarm you?”

“Ya think? I don’t know which fork to use, sir. Where does that leave me in your world?”

“With me. Because I do know which fork to use. Furthermore, I do not care. Klinger, perhaps you are under the impression that the world I would like to bring you into is a large one. It’s not. I have my own house. I’m the only one who lives there. I would remedy that situation with the addition of a Lebanese Corporal from Toledo if I could. And if you want to empty the silverware drawer into the ocean when you move in, I won’t stop you.” 

Klinger’s breath was coming so fast it almost whistled. “Major, did you… Was that?”

Charles smiled at his stunned happiness. “Not quite. It’s still illegal. But  _ I would _ , Maxwell, if I could. If you’d have me?” 

“I will if you mean it. If this is real, if you’ll take me with you when you go.”

“I will not only take you - I will keep you. I swear it.” He waited a beat to let this sink in. “Now, would you like me to walk you back to your tent or will you stay?” 

“If I stay, will you kiss me like that again?”

“All night long.”

End! 

  
  



End file.
